Dark elves

You push open the door. The room is walled in carved stone blocks. Passages extend out of the right and left walls, making a T-junction. The wall opposite you is covered in intricate machinery extending into the stone. Sections of cogs are still moving slowly, but you have no idea what their purpose is.

However, that’s not what draws your eyes. Instead, the first thing you notice is the party of beings standing in front of it. They are humanoid, with long, pointed ears, white hair and dark skin, varying in shade from night-black to nearly purple.

Dark elves! You’ve heard of their great underground matriarchal civilisation, but only in stories, tales of decadent monsters, beautiful and seductive but fierce and cruel, raiding surface settlements for slaves or **** on their surface-dwelling kin, who exiled them long ago. You never thought you’d meet one.

And now you’ve met six. There are three who seem to be warriors, burly men in leather armour with paired short-swords. Their leader is a handsome woman, who’s leather armour fits very becomingly on her muscular body. They all look bored right until the moment they notice you.

The other two figures are both stunningly beautiful, dressed scanty in white dresses embroidered with arcane symbols, with sections cut out to display their cleavage, backs and thighs. The older one’s dress is trimmed with gold, and she has a golden headpiece tangled in her hair. From the stories, you guess that these are two of the infamous witch-priestesses, mistresses of dark magic. Perhaps the younger one is a novice? They are examining the machinery.

A moment after you take this in, the elves spot you. Their eyes linger in shock on your bare breasts, exposed by your torn dress. This gives you a moment to react.